and the dangers were few. There were a dozen small settlements between here and the border with Pavissia Steppes, and they would have tracks to follow and farmsteads at which to stop and buy food. Marrakash always offered a gentle start to a voyage, and Nomi was glad of the gradual change.
The shadows closed around them, the trees grew high and there was a pleasant chill to the air. Ferns grew between the trees, taller than a person in places, and they swayed in time with tune birds singing in harmony. Every song was different, and some claimed that the birds felt the same emotion a person would whilst listening. The song this morning was upbeat and bright.
There was a path through the woods—a much-traveled route worn down to the rock in places. Before long, they passed a group of people going the other way, the men carrying heavy baskets on their heads, while the women bore tools and water skins.
“Nolan berries?” Beko asked.
The lead man carefully lowered his basket to the ground, nodding. He was sweating and breathing hard, but he offered a smile.
“Can I buy some?” Beko patted his stomach. “I've had breakfast, but Nolans lose their freshness so quickly.”
“Help yourself,” the man said. “Good crop this year, and I'll not take money for something you can pick a few hundreds steps on.” He lifted the basket back onto his head and leaned against Beko's horse.
Beko chose a dozen fat berries, handing a few to Nomi. “Good journeys.”
“Same to you.” The man and his party headed off.
Nomi ate a berry. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the taste. It was sweet, juicy and rich, and she could hardly think of anything more perfect.
Beko ate a couple of berries then turned his horse, passing the rest to Rhiana behind them. “Pass them along,” he said.
“Should have taken a few more; they make a great filling for plain doves.” Rhiana grinned at Nomi as she chewed, a dribble of juice speckling her chin.
“Hey, Ramus!” Nomi called. Ramus was at the back of the group, looking around calmly as they ate and chatted amongst themselves. “Come up and join us?”
He shook his head, smiled but said nothing.
“Please yourself. But I'll get there first!”
They moved deeper into the forest.
_____
NOMI HAD NOT traveled this way in over a year, and when they came to the standing stones, she gasped in surprise.
The stones had always been there. There were nineteen of them; fifteen were arranged around the clearing in a rough circle, while four others stood beyond the circle at the four points of the compass. The glade was almost a hundred steps across, and at its center lay a wide, flat rock with weathered carvings in its surface. Time had made most of the images impossible to discern, and the remaining indents were home to lichen. The stones were huge—the largest twice as high as a man and just as wide—and no one knew where they had come from, who had placed them or how they had been maneuvered through the forest. Their purpose was similarly vague. Temple, sacrificial altar, burial place of a Sleeping God—all had been suggested. There had been digs over the years, but few people were really interested enough to spend much time here. Noreela, both known and unknown, was scattered with thousands of similarly intriguing sites.
This place had always appeared wild, primal and untouched; even the stone circle had seemed a part of the land, not the result of people upon it. But now all that had changed. The trees around the edge of the clearing were adorned with countless scraps of colored cloth, some of them tied to lower branches or fixed to trunks, others hanging so high above the ground that whoever placed them there must have risked life and limb to do so. Blue, red and purple were the main colors, but amongst hundreds of these Nomi could also make out a few yellows, some greens and one or two black strips.
“What's this?” she asked, perplexed and a little awed.
“Remembrance
John Connolly, Jennifer Ridyard
Kevin J. Anderson, Rebecca Moesta, June Scobee Rodgers